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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27390835">Blood Ritual</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/pseuds/showmeurteef'>showmeurteef</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Monsta X (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Emphasis on blood, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Murder, Royalty AU, Swords, Violence, ambiguously historical kingdom, bloodbath like literally and figuratively, hits u over the head with symbolism sticks, incidental blood drinking, non explicit smut, rip to everyone else but hyungkyun r in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:48:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27390835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/pseuds/showmeurteef</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Changkyun leans forward to fully connect their chests. Hyungwon’s heartbeat reverberates against his own. Changkyun closes his lips and hollows his cheeks, drinking down the blood, until all he tastes is Hyungwon’s lovely, pampered skin. </i>
</p><p>two violent, arrogant, power hungry princes fall for each other. it goes about as well as you'd expect for everybody else.</p><p>extended/explained warnings within</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blood Ritual</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewish/gifts">geniewish</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this fic comes from an au my lovely pal n i made up so say thank u to her n also read her fics n also tell her that she's amazing (cuz she is)</p><p>@ eugene i'll hold myself back from saying anything super sappy n gross here but MWAH i hope u r pleased with what i’ve done w our child &lt;33333 mwah x2</p><p>warnings/explanations:<br/>- there's lots of blood in this fic so pls be mindful<br/>- one murder is explicitly shown while many more r described/remembered/implied<br/>- there is a body present during the proposal n sex scene<br/>- it's ambiguously historical + non explicit sex so ,,, protection, lube, etc etc aren't described<br/>- neither hyungwon nor changkyun r particularly nice moral characters<br/>let me know if u need any other tags/tws/cws ^^</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Changkyun’s toe skims the bath’s surface, thick scarlet giving slightly to his tentative touch. The blood is much warmer than Changkyun had anticipated. The bath was filled hours ago, tended to with new coals and new veins until Changkyun had been properly anointed. Terrified attendants had stalled the ritual, clumsily skittering over Changkyun’s pulse points with oils brought from his home, but at least they had warmed the bath well enough. With a pleased hum, he submerges one foot, then the other. The surface tension snaps, shatters. Each red ripple hurries to make room for him. </p><p>He drops his robe behind himself. The very tip of its silk sash doesn’t quite clear the edge of the bath that was set into the ground eons ago. The tip bobs in the warm liquid, red tongues lapping at it hungrily as Changkyun sinks further into the bath. Delicate flowers that had been so painstakingly embroidered by the Queen’s seamstresses soaking up blood at their roots. Stained, ruined. It had been a poor excuse for a welcome gift, anyhow. Changkyun can have something much finer made, now that the Queen’s seamstresses are practically his own.</p><p>He wades to the center of the bath, where the blood reaches his shoulders and the candlelight scarcely grazes its surface. He cups his palms and scoops up the warmth, like a peasant drinking from some lonely stream. Dry-mouthed and desperate. Changkyun lets the blood trickle from his hands, until only a thin ruby sheen remains on his skin. The blood looks nearly black in the dimly lit bath, but in Changkyun’s hands, it sparkles.</p><p>Changkyun locks eyes with himself in the grand mirror ahead. Stretching from floor to ceiling and hugged with gold, it reflects the entire bathroom. A chandelier overhead and candelabras all around, the silken folds of his robe to the side, Changkyun’s lopsided grin at the center. He’d like to have another mirror put in behind himself, to stretch the reflection out and out into infinity. </p><p>Slowly, carefully, he bends his knees and sinks further into the bath, maintaining eye contact with his reflection all the while. The stone below connects with his knees, still cold and unforgiving, despite the blood’s syrupy warmth. Changkyun’s frown is hidden beneath the warbling surface. Up to his ears in blood, the swish and sway of the fluid replaces the footfall of servants, nobles, whoever roams the castle corridors. He concentrates on his own heartbeat. On his eyes, glinting and teasing just above the deep red that surrounds.</p><p>He needs air. He stretches upward, leaving just the pit of his throat submerged. The sounds of the corridor return. His face sparkles red, red. Lips part around a deep inhale, and the ruby trickles down his sharp nose, his pretty lips, his teeth. He smiles a bit at the sight of himself, his mouth filled with rubies and pearls.</p><p>The bathroom door creaks open, sending a burst of chilled air into the quiet bathroom. Changkyun dips further into the bath once more. From just above the wavy surface, he peers at the intruder’s silhouette. The door snaps shut. Changkyun’s eyes blink, blink, widen, until Hyungwon takes shape in the flickering candlelight.</p><p>“Are you comfortable, love? Is the bath to your liking?” Hyungwon’s nasally whisper fills the bathroom. Seeps into the swish and sway of blood in Changkyun’s head.</p><p>Changkyun half-swims, half-shuffles through the blood to avoid the chilled air. He curls his fingers around the edge of the tub and peeks over it. Dripping strands of hair. Dark, shiny eyes gazing up at Hyungwon. </p><p>He squats before Changkyun, robe tied so loosely that a blush rises to Changkyun’s cheeks beneath the red ripples. Fingertips whispering against the floor, hair curling at the nape of his neck. His eyes are so soft.</p><p>“Oh no...” Hyungwon murmurs, catching the blood-soaked sash of Changkyun’s robe between two fingers. Stained and ruined, it no longer matches his own.</p><p>Changkyun rests his chin on the bath’s edge. Blood sloshes around him at the quick, bouncy motion. Hyungwon clutches Changkyun’s ruined robe in his hands.</p><p>“I want another one, something better.” Changkyun’s delicate fingers dance along the stone and his lips puff out around his words. Pensive, pretty. “For the both of us. I was thinking royal blue— you like that color, don’t you?”</p><p>Hyungwon’s slight frown dissolves as Changkyun tilts his head to the side, looking up at him. Tiny droplets of blood fall from Changkyun’s hair and onto his cheeks, into the bath.</p><p>“I’ll love whatever you select.”</p><p>The bath sloshes, spills. Changkyun raises himself up to catch Hyungwon’s hands in his own. He easily pries his fingers from the robe, tosses the silk aside, and tugs Hyungwon forward, forward. Their laughter rings throughout as Hyungwon clumsily follows Changkyun into the bathtub. He stumbles at first, but quickly shifts into a gentle wade as the thick blood gives way to his body. His robe floats away behind him, forgotten. Changkyun’s little hands pull and pull. </p><p>They both kneel at the deepest part of the bath, where the blood is black and Changkyun has to cling to Hyungwon to keep his head above the surface. His fingers are tight and warm at the topmost notch of Hyungwon’s spine. He fixes his eyes on Hyungwon’s face. The candlelight melts against his rounded features, makes his gaze all the more tender. His lips have either grown more plush since this morning, or Changkyun has simply missed him.</p><p>Hyungwon’s large hands cradle the small of Changkyun’s back. The viscous blood eases the dance of his fingers over skin and bone. Comforting circles, teasing taps. </p><p>“I want another mirror,” Changkyun says, just before lifting his legs and sinking into the bath. </p><p>Hyungwon’s hands become a sling, soft and swaying. Changkyun listens closely to the fluid in his ears. Lets the tang of iron seep through the seam of his lips. Eyes scrunched shut, he counts to ten, twenty, thirty. He waits for Hyungwon to yank him upwards, eyes wild with fear and mouth overflowing with questions. </p><p>It doesn’t happen. Changkyun resurfaces, face stretched into a grin.</p><p>“Of course, love. Whatever you want.”</p><p>Hyungwon’s eyes drink in Changkyun, hungry and bright. Embers crackle in Changkyun’s head. Changkyun spins them around, so he can see his own reflection over the curve of Hyungwon’s shoulder. Deep scarlet pours from the crown of his head, cascading over fluttering eyelashes and a cutting jaw, until it inevitably thins into a weak ruby veneer. He smiles up at Hyungwon.</p><p>“I want <em> you</em>,” Changkyun says, voice much too deep and dark for the candlelight to reach.</p><p>“Then, I’m yours,” Hyungwon replies. </p><p>Hyungwon’s narrow chest expands and expands. Changkyun’s hands slide over his stacked ribs and fragile collar bones, leaving red streaks in their wake. They hook over his shoulders at the same instant that his legs wrap around Hyungwon’s hips. Messy, urgent movements eased by the warm slide of blood. He bodily pushes Hyungwon below the surface, turning ripples into waves that lick up and over the sides of the bath to accept Hyungwon’s presence. </p><p>Changkyun gulps down air, excited. The light touches over his legs beneath the surface and his own hands on Hyungwon’s shoulders are the only hints that Hyungwon’s still here at all. The blood is too dark to make him out. The surface tension quickly collects itself. A shiver runs down Changkyun’s spine.</p><p>He glances into the mirror, pleased by the way that the candlelight exaggerates the slope of his nose. Hands resting on Hyungwon’s submerged head, he flexes his arms unnecessarily; Hyungwon poses no resistance. He wonders how long Hyungwon can or will stay below the surface. Wonders if Hyungwon’s thoughts are whittling down to the burn in his lungs and the pressure of Changkyun’s hands. </p><p>The bath’s surface is almost completely still, Hyungwon having barely moved a muscle in Changkyun’s hold. The sound of footsteps passing outside overtakes the quiet trickle and swish of the blood around them. There’s a sharp tug at Changkyun’s throat. He frowns and turns away from his reflection. He doesn’t want to see himself like this, just waiting on his own in the open air.</p><p>He hauls Hyungwon back up, and blood crashes all around his gasping body. Soaked hair clings to his soft features, each strand elongated by tiny red waterfalls. He squints, trying to see Changkyun through it. His mouth is open, open. The blood flows over his gums, trickles between his neat teeth, and coats his pulsing tongue. The pang in Changkyun’s throat sinks into the pit of his stomach.</p><p>Amidst all of Hyungwon’s desperate panting, Changkyun slides two fingers into Hyungwon’s mouth. They drag over his tongue and dip into the wet, squishy bits below. They explore the bitten ridges of his cheeks. Changkyun seats himself on top of Hyungwon’s folded thighs and Hyungwon’s hands tense at Changkyun’s back to keep him balanced, to pull him closer. </p><p>Air bursts from Changkyun’s lips as Hyungwon starts sucking on his fingers. Pretty lips tighten around his knuckles. A hot tongue drowning in spit and iron licks up the length of Changkyun’s fingers, curls around each of them, pulls them deeper and deeper inside. Blood swishes around Changkyun’s rolling hips. </p><p>Hyungwon reluctantly lets Changkyun pull his fingers from his mouth, scraping gently over his teeth as they go. Changkyun stares.</p><p>Hyungwon tosses his hair back. Tiny rubies are sent flying, plopping into the bath and splattering against the mirror. His smile, his eyes, his hands are so tender. Changkyun makes a thick, throaty noise.</p><p>“Is this how you bathe at home?” Hyungwon asks, watching the curved corners of Changkyun’s mouth.</p><p>“In my kingdom, it’s much more ritualistic. Public sacrifices, nobles flocking to the royal bath house to witness the ceremony— that sort of thing.” Changkyun runs his hands through the tangles of black and scarlet on Hyungwon’s head. Candlelight winks shyly in the strands as they pass through his fingers.</p><p>“This kingdom is almost yours now, too, so we could bathe however you like. With whomever, <em> in </em> whomever...” Hyungwon trails off with the tentative beginnings of a scalp massage. Changkyun just skims over his head at first, before pressing into the blood there. Into the skin.</p><p>“For now, I just want this,” he replies, quick and certain. “This blood has always belonged to you, you know? You <em> could’ve </em>been bathing in it all along, but you needed me to show you how.”</p><p>“I needed a reason to.”</p><p>Changkyun opens his mouth, and Hyungwon’s fingers hurry to occupy the dark, wanting space. They pet Changkyun’s tongue, so heavy and warm inside of him. Changkyun’s senses clog with metallic flavors and the ticklish flow of spit and blood down his chin.</p><p>“It took so many to fill the tub,” Hyungwon muses.</p><p>“Too many?” Changkyun quirks a brow, words messily spitting out around Hyungwon’s fingers.</p><p><em> “Never,” </em> he coos. The heavy heat on Changkyun’s tongue slides down, <em> down</em>. “Nothing could ever be too much for you. I’d personally slaughter a whole village just to warm your skin.”</p><p>“You practically have,” Changkyun giggles. </p><p>His smile stretches around Hyungwon’s long fingers. Changkyun leans forward to fully connect their chests. Hyungwon’s heartbeat reverberates against his own. Changkyun closes his lips and hollows his cheeks, drinking down the blood, until all he tastes is Hyungwon’s lovely, pampered skin. </p><p>More swishing around their hips. A wet gasp from Hyungwon. Changkyun tilts his head back, and Hyungwon’s hand slides down his chin and throat, splashing into the warm bath below.</p><p>Changkyun grips Hyungwon’s shoulders and pulls ever closer. He pecks Hyungwon’s featherdown mouth once, twice, with Hyungwon chasing after his lips each time. Blood pulses in Changkyun’s ears. He’s warm, <em> warm </em>in the bath and wrapped around Hyungwon, but he wants to be even warmer.</p><p>A whine tumbles out from Changkyun’s lips. He presses his thumbs into the shiny apples of Hyungwon’s cheeks. He wiggles his torso a bit, body gliding messily over Hyungwon, and furrows his brow. His breath quickens at Hyungwon’s immediate, sympathetic frown. </p><p>He wraps Changkyun’s legs around his waist and splays his hands over Changkyun’s back, before wading towards the edge of the bath. He carries Changkyun through even the shallowmost end, where the blood trickles from their tangled bodies, rather than easing Hyungwon’s motions. Changkyun kisses the hollow of his throat. </p><p>Hyungwon’s gotten so strong that only the slightest grunt of effort resounds when he sets Changkyun’s feet onto the cold stone floor. The phantoms of swords and fists travel throughout Hyungwon’s lithe body. Changkyun releases a short, breathy laugh as the candlelight licks all the way into his own fluttering chest.</p><p>Hyungwon turns and walks off to retrieve towels. Changkyun shivers from the chill of the air licking away the warm blood, from the sight Hyungwon in the golden light. A river of scarlet runs from the hair at his nape, down the curve of his spine, and separates into deltas at the small of his back that thin into only the faintest of rubies at his feet. Changkyun’s lips part, tongue trying to find the words for what he wants.</p><p>Hyungwon swivels around with towels in hand, and quickens his stride as if Changkyun is withering away before his eyes. Changkyun grins, turns on his heel, and makes for the door. Hyungwon’s noise of surprise echoes throughout the bathroom. He chases after Changkyun, only barely managing to toss the towel over his dripping head as his fingers wrap around the handle. </p><p>Changkyun cocks a brow at him over his shoulder, the towel draped around his poised, daring face like a veil. Hyungwon sighs, seeing well enough that Changkyun’s not withering, but <em> burning</em>. Eyes and cheeks ablaze.</p><p>Changkyun throws the door open, and Hyungwon rushes to cover himself as another burst of cool air invades the room. The towel over Changkyun’s head does little to protect from the corridor air, and the gloss of innocent blood does even less, but it hardly matters. The heat within Changkyun propels him forward, melts his shivers away, and deepens his stride. He lifts his nose as his eyes glide over the lowly folk who seem so much like frostbitten vines that sadly cling to the stone walls, that crumble at the slightest touch. Changkyun flashes his red-drenched fingers at a frozen maid as he passes, tracing his sharp jaw. </p><p>Torches along the arched walls stretch Changkyun’s shadow into a living thing, twice as large and twice as quick as his bare body. The wet slaps of his feet echo throughout the corridor, Hyungwon’s footfalls gradually rising in volume as he follows in Changkyun’s proud wake. Changkyun thinks of the servants scrambling to scrub their bloodied footsteps from the castle floors, stones set so carefully by Hyungwon’s ancestors ages ago, and he smiles. </p><p>Changkyun reaches the spiral staircase that leads to Hyungwon’s chambers, tucked away in its own tower. From the outside, the tower’s ornately carved stones stretch into the sky, the shiny tip of the spire eye-catching even from deep within the city. Changkyun had quietly marveled at the structure as his carriage approached the castle so many moons ago. Now, toes pressed against its first worn step and eyes lifted, it looks as though the stairs curl up into a never-ending darkness. </p><p>Changkyun knows better, though. Knows that through the heavy door at the top of the steps, Hyungwon has set Changkyun’s crown right beside his own. Resting easy on a plush pedestal, winking in the moonlight.</p><p>Halfway up the steps, Changkyun spins around and pulls Hyungwon’s towel from his body. He holds it overhead, the tower an echo chamber to his delighted laughter. Hyungwon’s hand emerges from the dark to grab at the white cloth, but he only does it to indulge Changkyun. With his height, it would be all too easy to retrieve the towel, to overtake Changkyun, to send Changkyun sprawling as he escapes with his meager cover. He catches Changkyun’s waist, instead, and Changkyun’s laughter is ear-splitting.</p><p>Stained, slick fingers pressing into his skin in the dark. Lips against his own shushing him, holding his feverish glee at the base of his throat. The towel flutters to the stone, to the dark like a dead dove. Changkyun pulls back just enough to release a few words, to say what he wants, but Hyungwon’s heavy-lidded gaze melts the words into the tinge of iron still on his tongue. Changkyun tugs at Hyungwon’s damp tendrils and shudders in his grasp.</p><p>“Up, up,” Hyungwon murmurs, nose so achingly soft against Changkyun’s own. “Higher?”</p><p>Changkyun nods eagerly. Hair traded for fingers, he pulls Hyungwon up, up. Higher. Changkyun’s desires get heavier and sharper with every step, until they reach Hyungwon’s chambers. He easily pushes through the door and squints in the sudden light. Moonbeams and flames dance off of gold, mirrors, and stained wood. Set side by side, their glittering crowns sting Changkyun’s eyes even as they beckon him forward.</p><p>He doesn’t let Hyungwon go far, although it's hardly as if a fiber in Hyungwon’s body twitches away from him. Changkyun clutches at Hyungwon’s bloodied skin and narrow bones all the way to the bed, until they fall into feathers and silk, dark wood and heavy velvet stretched above them. </p><p>Blood flakes from their rubbing skin and disappears against the richly colored bedding. Hyungwon straddles Changkyun’s hips and kisses him as if drinking him, rich and languid. The bedcovers whisper beneath Changkyun with every bend and pull and grasp. The weight of Hyungwon’s body sinks into his chest like a war cry. </p><p>“I want you. Want you so bad it <em> hurts,” </em> Changkyun sobs, the strain in his voice tugging his hips up from the bed.</p><p>Hyungwon looks down at Changkyun as if he’s brand new. Dark eyes darting over Changkyun’s features. Cheeks hollowing as his mouth falls open. Changkyun sobs once more. Hyungwon is a statue come to life, but far lovelier than any of the carved rocks back home, and utterly taken by sentience, by sensation, by <em> Changkyun</em>.</p><p>The smallest, sweetest gasp flutters from Hyungwon’s stained lips. He brushes Changkyun’s damp hair from his forehead, before cupping his cheek and bending into a kiss. Changkyun runs his tongue along the seam of Hyungwon’s lips, wonders whose blood he’s tasting. He licks into his mouth, tasting nothing but Hyungwon.</p><p>A dusty shuffle. A metallic creak.</p><p>Hyungwon sits upright, pupils shifting from tender, to regretful, to <em> severe </em>in a flash. He looks over his shoulder, while Changkyun pets at the lovely, twisted shape of his torso.</p><p><em> “Oh— </em> Forgive me, Your Highness. I thought that you weren’t in your chambers—”</p><p>“And when have servants ever been permitted to enter the Royal Family’s chambers without <em> express permission?” </em> Hyungwon’s tone is withering, weary. Changkyun longs to see what the tone has done to his beautiful features. </p><p>“Please, Your Highness, understand that I—”</p><p>“He’s arguing with you,” Changkyun murmurs. He stretches his arms overhead. Fingertips scalded, limbs too tight. He cranes his neck to the side, and finds Hyungwon’s expression just as he had imagined. Like an upturned knife.</p><p>“Know your place,” Hyungwon spits, and the servant cowers, kneels, quivers. Hyungwon’s disdain drowns the complete image of the servant within Changkyun’s mind. The man is diluted to a haggard silhouette, movements quashed and clipped by the heavy snowfall of Hyungwon’s gaze. </p><p>Changkyun’s core stirs with memories of this same expression worn throughout the castle. Hyungwon, appearing before all the world like a winter confronted with the tedium of spring. There was once a groom who stepped too close, a jester who failed to entertain. <em> Was. </em>Changkyun remembers the first time he saw blood on Hyungwon’s hands and the thaw that passed between Hyungwon and himself thereafter. He moans.</p><p>Hyungwon is slow to separate from Changkyun’s skin. He slides off of Changkyun’s form to approach the squirming husk. Changkyun immediately misses Hyungwon’s weight, but the sight of Hyungwon quiets him. Blood smeared and dried and dripping from his painfully lovely flesh. Long, easy steps. The red smudges on his skin turn into dark, inky brushstrokes as he passes through the moonlight and into the shadows near the doorway. </p><p>Changkyun’s hand finds himself. Swollen, wet. </p><p>“I didn’t see a thing. I <em> swear.” </em></p><p>Hyungwon’s scoff is like feathers bursting from a punctured velvet cushion. Changkyun sits up and loosely holds onto one of the bed’s columns, its dark wood twisting and reaching to support the canopy overhead. He watches Hyungwon’s languorous stride. His hands flit over his crown, before his brow furrows and he retrieves a sword, instead. It fits far too well in Hyungwon’s hand to have ever belonged to his parents. Steel and flesh born for each other, borne of each other.</p><p>The pleas of the servants slide right off of the sword, doing nothing at all to affect the ease of Hyungwon’s motions. He holds the hilt as if it were a wilted bouquet. Thrusts downward as if he were swatting a fly. His expression only changes when he glances at Changkyun from eyes wilted by disinterest, to eyes brimming with starlight. </p><p>“What were you like before me?” Changkyun asks, heated cheek pressed into the bedpost’s cool wood. </p><p>Quietly, he and Hyungwon watch the man’s struggles and shivers fade away. Hyungwon pulls the sword from the man’s chest, grimacing as a wet <em> crack </em>permeates the room. Hyungwon gingerly sets the sword atop his vanity to be polished and sharpened later. Blood gushes from the servant’s wound, spreading beneath Hyungwon’s feet and creeping towards the bed. </p><p>Changkyun’s toes hover over the growing scarlet puddle. He wiggles them. He and Hyungwon exchange hushed smiles.</p><p>“A prince, I suppose,” Hyungwon replies. He looks from the man’s crumpled body to his own petal-soft hands, and mutters something about fetching another servant for the mess, before he catches Changkyun’s tiny, dissatisfied frown. He laughs lightly. “I’ve always been exactly as I am now.”</p><p>He pads off to close the door, the creaks of its hinges echoing down into the dark tower. When he turns and begins to walk back to the bed, the moonlight extends his shadow backwards, a black, warbling plume that seeps out through the cracks of the door. Cascades down the steps. Spreads and spreads.</p><p>“The <em> world </em>was different before you arrived.” His hand makes a fluttering motion, and lands sheepishly at his neck. His voice is ticklish within Changkyun’s skull.</p><p>Changkyun unpeels himself from the bedpost and sits at the very edge of the bed, eagerly anticipating Hyungwon’s approach. He thinks he knows exactly what Hyungwon means.</p><p>Hyungwon’s last steps slap wetly against the stone and blood, but he doesn’t react to the sounds or the sting. He holds Changkyun tightly in his gaze. Damp hair frames his starry eyes. Dried blood sneaks out from his scalp and clings to the underside of his jaw. He takes Changkyun’s hands and folds them between his own, and the fit is even better than that of steel and flesh.</p><p>Hyungwon lowers to one knee, his bare, blue-blooded flesh sinking into the scarlet like it’s nothing but water. Changkyun swallows thickly. The moonlight is bright, so bright around them.</p><p>“Under the pillow,” Hyungwon whispers, reading and rereading the angled slopes of Changkyun’s face. Sparks pop deep within Changkyun’s chest. </p><p>Changkyun raises his brows and dives a hand beneath Hyungwon’s pillow. He knows exactly what he’ll find, but his face still splits into a smile as his fingers touch, pluck, retrieve gold. A wedding band. Tiny vines and ancient script wrap around the ring, engraved before rulers scarcely looked up from the ground. The power held within it is as frank as that within Hyungwon’s crown. </p><p>Hyungwon’s eyes are thick, heavy with the presence of the ancestors whose flesh once molded around the ring. He looks at Changkyun as if the gold were molding itself around Changkyun’s finger before his very eyes. Changkyun’s breath sticks to the roof of his mouth. Heartbeat too quick, too deep.</p><p>“Together...” Hyungwon clears his throat, and clumsily continues with the voice that he uses downstairs, in bustling banquet halls, among the lowly folk, “Together, our union will bring our nations’ much—”</p><p>“I don’t care. Hyungwon, <em> Hyungwon,” </em> Changkyun tosses his head with a laugh, grin so bright it reflects the moonlight just like the mirrors, the sword, the gold. The ring rests in his upturned palms. He stretches his hands towards Hyungwon, offering. “I only want you.”</p><p>Hyungwon’s eyebrows knit together. Tears glitter in his eyes. He rises to his feet and bends forward, until Changkyun’s vision swims with him. Red trickles down from his knees, slick beneath his feet. A strand of hair curls above his collarbone. His cupid’s bow catches shadow. The even rise and fall of his chest. Changkyun holds the air between his teeth and he <em> aches. </em></p><p>With great care, Hyungwon takes the ring from Changkyun’s palms. A smile tugs at his mouth as Changkyun extends his left hand. He slips the ring onto his finger. Pulls away so slowly, it’s as if he’s afraid the band might fly away, or weigh Changkyun’s hand into the ground. Changkyun laughs, short and breathy at first, but outright once Hyungwon’s laughter joins his own.</p><p>They kiss lightly, peppering each other’s faces with warmth. Hyungwon pulls away to trace his eyes over the canopy above, the bloodied stone below, the window just behind Changkyun. Changkyun’s eyes sting, tiny tears like so many crystals clinging to his eyelashes. He lays his gold-banded hand over Hyungwon’s cheek, and Hyungwon cups it with his own. His soft skin melds with Changkyun and the weighted bit of gold. Changkyun presses his glittering hand into his smiling cheek, and shivers at the thought of the pinkish indent he’ll leave.</p><p>Hyungwon bends, bends to really kiss him, and Changkyun bends, bends to really kiss him back. Changkyun clutches at Hyungwon’s skin, flesh, bones. More certain than he’s ever been that all of Hyungwon will fit right between his own breathless lungs. A candle deep within him, dripping and sweetly fragranced. Changkyun whines, high and frustrated, and stretches down to his toes, hoping to stretch the wick out with him.</p><p>Hyungwon shushes him, his eyes softening around Changkyun’s desperation. He kisses him to ease the burn and he traces patterns on his skin more intricate than those on the wedding band. </p><p>Changkyun says yes. </p><p>Hyungwon touches him as if memorizing the shape of Changkyun’s very soul. Dedicated to some never-ending pursuit that begins where the space between their skin ends. </p><p>Changkyun says yes, again and again.</p><p>They interlock. Hyungwon’s fingers knit with Changkyun’s own, pressing into gold, and his moan jolts Changkyun’s core. He feels wild. He feels urgent. Shivering and swelling, unable to wait much longer. Hyungwon understands what Changkyun wants through little more than the sweat beading between their palms.</p><p>Gentle hands twist Changkyun around. He settles back on his knees and rests the crown of his head on Hyungwon’s shoulder. Hyungwon moves like water through rapids. An easy, slow current rising and falling over jagged rock. Hyungwon’s fingers dance over his chest and he cries out. Stomach dropping and toes curling as he passes through whitewater.</p><p>Moonlight slips between his arched spine and Hyungwon’s torso. Mouthful after mouthful of liquid heat slides down the column of Changkyun’s throat. Hyungwon splays one wide palm over the center of Changkyun’s chest. </p><p>“Look, my love. <em> Look.” </em> His breath hitches in Changkyun’s ear, but his voice is so low, so steady. “It's yours now.”</p><p>Changkyun looks down his upturned chin, past the stone windowsill, and into the land below. Castle walls giving way to greenery and hills. Splotches of life that collect into a city. An endless expanse of night sealed by a waxing moon. </p><p>Hyungwon fits so solidly within him, that Changkyun thinks he might really sink into the green earth. That he might not mind if he did.</p><p>The scenery ripples with their heavy, rhythmic movements. Changkyun thinks of the subjects parting around his carriage on its journey to Hyungwon’s castle, and of the ancient stones holding the tower aloft. Blood swishes and sways in his ears. His moans pour out over the windowsill, spilling and spilling.</p><p>His eyelids curtain the sky. He presses his left hand into Hyungwon’s over his chest. Urgent, Hyungwon seizes the hand still dangling at Changkyun’s side and interlaces their fingers. Every bit of them interlocked.</p><p>When Changkyun opens his eyes, every white splotch in the land gazes up at him. The moonlight pours over his breastbone. Changkyun’s voice breaks around his wet release, and tightens in the pit of his throat, “You’re mine, too.”</p><p>Hyungwon strings his insides with pearls and fire, with a thousand tiny knives. The neat pearls strung into his smile press into Changkyun’s shoulder. He pants Changkyun’s name over and over, his damp hair tickling Changkyun’s neck. </p><p>Changkyun opens his eyes, and the sky is spinning, soaked with tears and smelling of iron. He lands on his back. Hyungwon lays on top of him. Feathers and royal flesh. Changkyun’s gaze slips from the upside down world hanging in the window behind them, to Hyungwon’s rapturous smile. Changkyun raises the hand that holds Hyungwon’s own, and the wedding band flashes between their fingers.</p><hr/><p>Hyungwon peels his hand from his throne’s armrest, palm indented by the swans carved into the wood. He rubs absently at the pinkish mark. Its delicate curves, its faint outline of a beak. </p><p>Then, he sees it.</p><p>His wilted posture suddenly becomes knifelike, balanced on the edge of the sight before him. The crowd trembles like water beneath a skipped stone. A crown bobs through the paltry remains of the celebration, a heavy thing with steel limbs that glitter, that <em> reach</em>. Its keen ends stretch above the trembling lake to aim for the painted pillars overhead. Hyungwon’s never seen anything like it.</p><p>Someone says his name. </p><p>His eyes flicker to the side, meet the scruff of hair atop some attendant’s head, and return to the party for another look at that crown. It’s nowhere to be found— swallowed up by familiarly unfamiliar faces as soon as Hyungwon looked away. </p><p>Hyungwon clicks his tongue and crosses his legs. Straightens and dusts the silk over his knees. Neatly folds his hands.</p><p>“What is it now?”</p><p>“The Queen, Your Highness...” Their pause is elongated by a gulp. Hyungwon spares them another glance, while the corner of his mouth tugs into a frown. “Her Majesty requests that you greet the guests.”</p><p>A sigh is dragged from Hyungwon’s throat. His frown deepens, twists. The servant scurries back to their position behind his throne, nothing more than a lamplit pillar that creaks and groans at Hyungwon’s every tiny motion. Poorly crafted. A discredit to the royal carpenters.</p><p>Hyungwon catches his mother’s gaze at the edges of the drinking, dancing crowd. Her shoulders straight, robes gently flowing around her feet. She stands before a row of more painted, creaky pillars, stately and certain among them, holding the pavilion aloft. The stern eyes that echo her request to Hyungwon quickly melt around a smile as some noble approaches her. </p><p>Hyungwon recognizes him as a lord from a far-off, fruitless mountain region. The Queen engages him with a display of pleasantries and grand gestures far too elaborate for someone of his status, before she and the noble follow the row of pillars in the direction of the gardens.</p><p>Hyungwon presses his shoulder blades against the throne. Candle smoke and laughter clog the ancient rafters. Alcohol and perfume itch Hyungwon’s nose. The moon hangs low over the reeds, the hills, the horizon that dips into the city standing beyond the castle walls. He grimaces. </p><p>This celebration of yet another war won has gone on too long. Conversation has sunken painfully into his cheeks, and his tongue is far too heavy to curl around meaningless pleasantries with whoever lingers after the important officials have gone home. He’s tempted to sink back into his wooden throne.</p><p>Another creak from behind the throne reminds him of the Queen’s insistent eyes. Hyungwon sighs and rises with a symphony of swishing silk, wooden platform steps squeaking underfoot. </p><p>A servant darts in front of him, traveling from the banquet tables at Hyungwon’s left, to the farthest end of the pavilion with a chalice of red wine in hand. She dissolves into the crowd’s pulsing edge.</p><p>There. That crown. Glittering at him from the edge of the crowd. Hyungwon’s fingers reach up to trace his own ancient crown of swans and runes, distinct simply for the eons of status it carries. This strange crown’s tines are too sharp and too bright. To call its impossibly intricate designs and imposing form modern would be an oversimplification— Hyungwon imagines that the crown called itself into existence only moments ago. Like something out of a fairytale. </p><p>Hyungwon inhales deeply and submerges one foot into the crowd, then the other. The dregs of his family’s guests part around each regal step, even though he doesn’t bother to return their pleasantries. Grateful for his naturally long strides, he follows the crown, his robes moving like a brook breaking through the early spring. He wonders if the fairytale crown can call itself out of existence just as quickly as it had appeared. He hurries.</p><p>A rift in the guests provides ample room for his robes to sway freely around his feet as he halts centimeters from the crown. Its pointed ends graze Hyungwon’s height, though they had seemed so much taller from afar, and are etched with fascinating little knots. The closer view offers more questions than it answers about the design. </p><p>Hyungwon’s eyes slide down, down, down. Meet a hardened brow, an arrogant nose. A dark pair of eyes have already narrowed menacingly by the time Hyungwon makes eye contact. </p><p>Hyungwon’s lips part. Wondering.</p><p>He bows. The crown’s wearer neither comments on the elegant fluidity within his bones, nor returns the gesture. Hyungwon forgets to close his mouth.</p><p>In the corner of his eye, Hyungwon notices the chalice in some servant’s grasp— in that same, distastefully hurried servant’s grasp. Those dark eyes don’t stray from Hyungwon’s face as a hand gently curves around the chalice. Fingerprints pressing into silver. Nails raking over Hyungwon’s family crest. Hyungwon hears the clang of heated hammers, and sees the ripples that were once sent through the metal by long-gone silversmiths.</p><p>“Prince Im Changkyun,” he breathes. “It’s an honor.”</p><p>The greeting is hardly formal enough for a fellow prince, yet too formal for someone who hadn’t returned Hyungwon’s bow. Hyungwon hardly knows how to approach a prince from a kingdom whose reputation is so nightmarish, where traditional pleasantries are so often traded for violence.</p><p>As a child, Hyungwon had learned of the kingdoms he would encounter as he came of age, and the stories of the Ims’ kingdom had been the most gruesome of all. Hyungwon had never understood the bloody paintings that accompanied each tale. Such an awful waste of red ink.</p><p>The prince’s eyes twinkle around the rim of the chalice as he drinks. Hyungwon mourns the loss of that delicate, royal hand melded around the cup as soon as the Prince lets the servant hold it once again. He considers asking him to take another sip.</p><p>Hyungwon shoos the servant away like a gnat hovering too close to such rare fruit. The Prince smiles up at him, growing prettier and prettier in the wake of Hyungwon’s dismissive motion. A clang resounds deep within Hyungwon’s chest.</p><p>“Please. You can simply call me Changkyun.” His voice is a cavern, a whisper. His eyes aren’t twinkling, but <em> burning</em>. “And the honor is all mine, <em> Hyungwon.” </em></p><p>Hyungwon gazes at the ruby-like beads of wine that cling to the Prince’s small smile, and he suspects that he might finally be beginning to understand the use of all that red ink.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...And They Lived Happily Ever After &lt;3 i rlly like these evil prince boyes so!!!! pls lmk what u thought :3c kudos n comments = um ,,, perfectly normal peaceful wedding gifts for the perfectly normal peaceful wedding they definitely have</p><p>u can find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/showmeurteef">twitter</a> or <a href="https://curiouscat.me/showmeurteef">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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